I Just Want To Be Understood
by Stewthewriter1
Summary: An alien named William describes life on Earth for him and his people.
1. Chapter 1

I Just Want To Be Understood

Chapter 1

As I sit in here my shack contemplating what I hope to say, my three fingered 'claws' are barely managing to grip this writing implement designed for humans only.

It is a struggle in itself but then it is also the perfect accompanying analogy to life here on Earth for me.

Outside, barely an hour after sundown, I can already hear the first stirrings of another unsettled night in the district. There are non humans fighting with each other and the all too human gangs marauding around chasing debts. Prostitutes vie for trade and get into arguments with their pimps.

I have put a sign up outside my shack to warn off any would be sex workers looking for 'inter-species relations'

The humans, actually Nigerian gangs, are mainly engaged in stealing back the rip-off priced cat food THEY had already sold to us. They also enjoy shooting off gunfire in the air with their assault rifles and enjoy murdering non-humans with impunity on the slightest pretext.

Added to all this the pesky MNU patrols, with their helicopter searchlights all through the night and it is truly awful for me!

A true assault on all of my senses!

But this is a typical soundtrack for life here in the district, one which I have had to become accustomed to.

So I am partly completing this document out of a need to record the important events of the last few days (and my role in them) but also to give humans and future historians an idea of what it is really like for us, those branded as 'aliens', 'non-humans' or just simply 'prawns'

Some of us, you see, have what humans like to call 'intelligence'.

This means the ability to think, speak and act for oneself, completely independent of the so called paradigm of 'hive mentality' by which humans (represented by MNU) opt to deal with us.

_They are all the same._

_Stupid mindless prawn savages._

_Kill them all._

I want to try and change this negative stereotype of us.

But why should I, they don't really understand or care anyway do they?

These horrible opinions have meant a great deal of fear being directed towards our kind, in the form of violence and a 'one size fits all' approach to managing us. It is easier to beat down an unruly prawn than try and talk to him, is it not?

That is the rule by which MNU operates anyway.

But just like humans we too have overt and subtle differences, not least in our characters, beliefs and appearances. If you visited the district at any time you would see beings that are different sizes, colours and temperaments!

There are those with hopes and aspirations, like myself, and those with none at all.

Don't misunderstand me though; we can by our very nature be fiercely loyal and protective of one another, often violently.

Would you not protect your home or family if it was under threat?

Would you not draw together as a species if you were in an unfamiliar world, surrounded on all sides by hostility and unwanted by the majority 'host' population?

This is how we have been conditioned for generations, to survive and to prosper against adversity. From harsh mining colonies on distant planets to our own somewhat barren home world, my people know how to exist in difficult climates.

This planet, your Earth, has given us many new challenges and fears.

Never before now have we encountered a native race so hostile and unwelcoming to our kind, nor have we ever been so outnumbered either.

Worse than this though is the terror of knowing we are virtually imprisoned here and at the total mercy of MNU, because we are herded into a hellish slum with all aspects of our life are controlled and monitored.

Like many others, my attempts to procreate have been destroyed, with my eggs being taken away or simply killed. I have thus been unable to raise a youngling, which has left me with an intense hatred of humans and caused me untold distress.

Every single day attempts are made to 'thin out' the non-human population, with outright attacks, 'accidents' and many other unexplained disappearances.

In the last few days (and which I have in part instigated) there has been a massive crackdown in the district after terrorist bombings instigated by my former ship mate David Forbes have paralysed the city with fear.

MNU have flooded the district with personnel and have broken up the resistance groups here.

Humans in general, so I sense, are in an ugly and unforgiving mood. Protests outside the gates, even human incursions into the district itself from surrounding areas, have become the norm. It has never been quite this bad.

For years we have been cooped up inside the district, with MNU security forces constantly present. It would seem foolhardy if not suicidal to try and attack us here.

But MNU have assured me that I am quite safe, given my sterling work of assisting them to capture Forbes. But I am not quite so sure and besides I don't trust MNU or humans one jot!

Like all of the other so called non-humans, I came to Earth on our mother ship when it was swept with sickness and damaged in subsequent power struggles. I had been a scientist's assistant on the vessel prior to then. And I too suffered in the squalid darkness for some time after the ship had shut down, unsure of what was happening to us, even what place we had ended our journey.

I cannot even remember my true name, so long ago had it last been used, but when MNU came they gave me the name 'William Peters' and placed a black and white 'ownership' stamp on the back of my head.

_I was an asset to them now, a number_...

They 'owned' me and the millions of other non-humans and like most property, would be free to do as they pleased with us.

After the government broke in and 'rescued' us, I was brought down from the ship and briefly placed in quarantine. After a short while they quickly began to realise that we weren't all mindless insects; some of us had instinct, cunning and real feelings…

But I was still studied like a zoo animal, caged with a group of others and observed by men and women in white coats and clip boards.

Titbits of food would be passed through the cage bars from time to time and the drones would always leap on the food, snarling at the rest of us to stay away. I practically starved because I was not a savage and this was noted by the humans. I just sat on the hard floor contemplating my future; it was imprisonment anew to be held here so why didn't they just leave us on the ship?

With my acute sense of hearing I often heard the phrases 'stranded', 'large colony' and 'command module missing' from the humans when questions about us had been asked.

This piqued my interest as I hadn't realised any part of the ship was missing, where could it be I wondered. Surely it held the key to our escaping here?

In time, through this and other interactions, I picked up the 'English' language in a few months and began to instruct my fellow 'prawns' (as we were now apparently to be known) in the Earth language.

This was all despite the obvious reluctance of the humans even to understand our language, despite the lengthy periods of time spent studying us.

When my kind had been 'processed' and declared unlikely to have brought any threatening diseases to this planet, we were released into the care of humanitarian organisations, living at first in a purpose built refugee camp.

Instead of fighting in the food queues like savages or simply resorting to stealing which was commonplace in those early days, I patiently waited in the long lines, day in, day out. I knew better than to fight for my food or steal off those less fortunate than me.

I always clutched with me a battered English language dictionary, which I had found in one of my first forays into salvaging human rubbish. It helped set me apart from the rest, assisting me to understand the human's complex dialects more easily. It seemed as if humans took a special interest in me, giving me extra rations or requesting my mediation in disputes.

MNU then took an interest in me and once again took me away to be 'studied'

Poked, prodded and interrogated with hundreds of random questions, they realised I was 'more dangerous than your average non-human' (their exact words) after this battery of tests was completed.

I would be certified 'intelligent' and of great use to them now. But when they realised I wasn't alone, that around one in every thousand members of my species had a sentience just like me then this scared them.

_How is it that a repulsive race of creatures had willpower, feelings, even a brain?_

This was the first of many presumptions mankind would make about us and which eventually proved to be hugely mistaken.

But more than all of this, the humans were becoming increasingly interested in our technology and how to exploit it, in particular what they described as our 'advanced' weaponry, which in actual fact was very primitive in our culture. I felt this was because of witnessing early weapon usage to settle disputes throughout the camp.

I suppose to humans what we had brought with us was 'advanced' compared to the ancient tools they used to live by.

But there was a flaw in the use of our technology, because put simply humans couldn't operate it.

They became frustrated at this inability to use even our most basic equipment and so the group of identified 'intelligent' prawns (my self included) were summoned to explain the operating instructions to MNU.

Many refused to and were killed for their resistive stand.

Reflecting back on this, I feel somewhat naïve and consider this my first own betrayal of my species. Believing in our cultural ideals of sharing technology and resources peacefully with other beings, I told them that only our species could operate our technology but if another being could somehow have our DNA.

So then the experiments started...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

By now I had been on this planet for one Earth 'year' and already the shantytown which came to be known as District 9 had gone up and was growing day by day.

Humanitarian organisations ferried in materials to construct simple dwellings called 'shacks' for us to live by. But at the same time the growing coils of barbed wire and concrete barriers being erected gave me cause for concern. It was as if the one hand humans were acting benevolently to our kind but on the other hand caging us in!

And so this unease was heightened when the so-called less 'desirable' members of my species had begun to disappear, never to be seen again. Progressively, more and more non-humans went missing, including those considered _intelligent._

They had been accused of a myriad of 'crimes', ranging from simple subversion to the murder of humans.

Several individuals, with whom I had hoped to mate with, named Stephen, Marcus and Gordon had all vanished.

At this stage we were still allowed to freely mingle outside the district as it had not yet taken on the air of a militarised slum.

Rumours had gone round the community that the humans had trucks coming and going from an isolated spot a few miles from the district, at all hours of the day and night.

My friend Benjamin had been out scavenging in this area one day, and had chanced upon one of these trucks.

He said he had witnessed the truck disgorge a load of what looked like carcasses into a deep pit. He also told me that as the armed men present started to douse the pile in gasoline, he could see both humans and non-humans in the tangle of twisted bodies. Just as the match was thrown, Benjamin was spotted and shot at by the men.

The next night, under cover of darkness, I accompanied Ben to the site and, hiding in the long grass, we watched and waited. Our ability to see in the dark is excellent and has often saved many of us from running into trouble with MNU patrols or Nigerians on countless occasions. Along with an enhanced long distance vision, we can literally see humans long before they see us, just like the Earth creatures known as 'cats'.

A putrid stink permeated our antennas, which swayed and twitched. You see my species both 'smells' and 'hears' with our antennae, which depending on what stage of moulting you are at or if you are conceiving an egg, can be affected.

Despite Ben actually being in the first stage of a conception, he still heard the sound of two vehicles approaching long before they actually appeared.

'Be still' I recall whispering to him.

The truck and jeep pulled up to the pit and a phalanx of armed guards stepped out. They had obviously remembered the sight of a prawn spying on them from the previous day and were not prepared to take any chances.

Silently the men began unloading a number of beings, stacked up on wheelbarrows for ease of transportation. I myself witnessed three fingered hands and one antenna poking out from the stack, together with darker skinned human corpses. I felt emotionally disturbed at this sight, along with having a complete sense of confusion. What were they doing to us and why did it involve humans too?

The same process as the previous day played out, with the pile being quickly set ablaze in a great roar of flames. After the trucks drove away however, Ben and I stayed for awhile. Inside the fire we heard squeals and popping sounds…some of the non-humans had obviously still been alive and their eggs were exploding in the heat.

It was a secret genocide of our species!

We wept when we returned to the district and smouldered with the first fires of hatred for the humans, hotter even the flames which had consumed many of my brothers and sisters that night. 'Seasonal bush fires' they had called them on the news, as I watched it on my newly acquired television. I had been the first in the district to acquire such a device, bartered from one of the first Nigerian gangs to move into the area, in exchange for a fucked up old arc gun. I recall one individual's words to me that day as if it were yesterday: 'What does a stupid fucking prawn want with a TV? You are too stupid to know how to even operate it!'

Well they had one of my weapons and couldn't even figure out how to operate that, and so it was useless to them too!

But I ended up being so angered at this insult that the next night I went out, found him and simply broke his neck while he was enjoying beating up a prawn that hadn't paid for a prostitute.

'Leave that prawn alone' I had said, finding him clubbing the unfortunate elderly victim to the ground. As with humans, we revered our elders and it was incensed that this man would attack an older adult.

'Who the fuck says I should eh prawn?' he comes at me with his rifle.

'I do' grabbing the gun and ripping it out of his hands and breaking it in half.

He tried to run but with a growl I leapt on his back, using my hind legs to kick him down. Then I snapped his neck with one hand.

He was my first human victim and I enjoyed killing him. It sent a warning out to the humans: don't play us for fools or you will suffer!

A 'window on the world' they called television. Certainly it helped me in ways that I could never have anticipated; to understand humans and refine my rather basic understanding of spoken English. With their vile advertisements, badly acted soaps and so called 'movies', this small boxy object of moving images and sounds taught me more about human 'culture' in those early days than any of my first brutal encounters with Nigerians or MNU.

Benjamin and I had meanwhile gotten word out of the scenes being played out barely a few miles from the district. Anger and uproar, swiftly beaten down, briefly flashed in the district. We couldn't let this go unpunished, the elders said, and we knew it.

We must do something to avenge our fallen brothers and sisters, but what exactly?

Upon reflection, this would seem to represent the point at which most of my feelings of discontent and mistrust of the humans began to surface.

Small resistance groups were formed but were quickly cut down by MNU and the individuals concerned with these groups simply disappeared, probably to end up joining those already consumed in the funeral pyres.

But even in those halcyon early days I still believed we could peacefully co-exist with the humans here on Earth. I thought the behaviour of the Nigerians and MNU were extremes, not at all representative of the wider human population.

How wrong I was to be!

Travelling one day to the store for meat (the Nigerians by this point hadn't cornered the market for us) with Benjamin and another non- human, Alexander, we were horrified to see the first overt sign of the humans feelings towards us.

I recall it was the long hot summer of AD 1986. Hot in many ways as the first alien riots and human counter-riots and insurgencies had begun. Feelings were running high on both sides. But the trigger for this more outwardly expressed disquiet?

A little human girl, Catherine Dixon, had been kidnapped and eaten by a non-human, with her half devoured body parts then being scattered across the city. Her culprit was never found, despite the public appeals by her family to track them down. All of us became suspects-by-default and I recall many innocent victims being harassed or even killed. It actually became unsafe for us to travel by night on the city streets rather than the much trumpeted version of events which stated that it was unsafe at night BECAUSE OF US!

At the store on that day we were surprised to be told by the elderly human owner that our money wasn't good enough and our custom would now be banned.

Then the first of many signs in shop windows appeared, which said: 'NO PRAWNS ALLOWED' or 'NON-HUMANS BANNED'

MNU got in on the act by putting similar notices all around the streets and banning us from certain areas, such as bus stations and public parks. Gradually over time our horizons diminished and we ended up being barred from more and more areas of the city. Human opinion had begun to turn against us too. That day when we left the store, humans spat at us and called us 'dirty grubs' after telling us to go home.

Home was here for us now, we pleaded, only to be shouted down.

That day word must have gotten around that we had been spotted and a mob gathered around us. Things quickly got violent as kicks, punches and bottles flew but we fought back. I recall grabbing one man by the head, crushing it like an egg and flinging the body at the crowd. The local police simply stood idly by and did nothing, despite my pleas. One officer told me to fuck off when I ran to him.

This accidental killing only served to enrage them further and like a pack of wild animals, they surged forward. As we broke through and ran for our lives (we run faster than humans, of course) heavier objects began to fly around. I will always remember the sickening sound of a breeze block striking Alexander on the head. It was a lucky shot and when he went down, the mob encircled him and brought the block down on his head several times, until it gave way with a resounding crack. I stood horrified as the humans threw his body around like a rag doll, spitting and pissing on it just for good measure!

Helplessly I threw some of the missiles back but it was no good, so we beat a retreat to District 9, bloodied and battered. I weep when I remember how Alex died, alone, frightened and surrounded by a savage human mob.

And THEY call my species animals and non-humans!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Over the next few days we asked why this had happened, it was senseless and devoid of any meaning. 'Official' police investigations (taken over by MNU later on) came to naught.

Nobody had seen a thing, they said and that the file would be closed as a result.

_Just another prawn death and therefore pretty meaningless to us…_

But it was only the beginning, now the humans wanted more non-human blood to be spilled.

When a non-human egg nest had been discovered in a junk yard some distance from District 9, it was destroyed with much fanfare and celebration, with the media being invited to cover the event like a pantomime. Local celebrities and sports stars got a look in, some even bringing their children with them.

Now even our _unborn_ comrades were at great risk from the humans!

In addition when a non-human had been caught stealing tyres from expensive vehicles in an 'upmarket' area of the city, he was shot on sight and displayed for the cameras as a warning to others, like a snared wild animal.

And now all non-humans would be turned down for even the most menial jobs, instead being forced to work in MNU 'approved' enterprises (armaments factories, mines or like myself, as translators for my species)

I concluded all of this was designed to make the lives of humans easier. My species was actually a readymade slave-work force; we asked no questions and took the savage beatings meted out to us in our stride.

In a sort of ironic way, many of the drones were happy in this environment as it most replicated the conditions we had been hitherto used to living in. Nonetheless the list of prejudices and upfront discrimination went on and on whilst we continued to be exploited…

Humans turned a blind eye to our suffering and apathy set in amongst my own kind, so many took to drinking to escape the daily horrors, with old vehicle brake fluid being one of the cherished favourites.

The soft candlelight I have used to illuminate my shack casts dancing shadows around me, seemingly fixating on the piles of cat food tins I gave to the addicts at cut price rates, like a probing eye.

My reverie is interrupted by the sounds of a fight outside and voices cursing in the tongue of two different species. I put my head out of the door and tell them all to shut the fuck up.

Minutes later I am distracted by a sharp rapping on my door. I think it is one of the addicts or could it be a Nigerian hoping to rob me?

I tell them to go away but the man says he is from MNU.

Great, what do they want and do they ever give harassing us a rest?

I ponder the possible answers as I slide my chair out from the table and make a show of stomping to the door.

I hope it isn't a raid, don't they know I am writing an important document here?

Clearly annoyed, I open the door violently. Into the door light steps a man named Temba, who is what the humans call a 'Zulu' and also a veteran oppressor of non-humans.

We had first met when he tried to close down my 'illegal' cat food stall some years ago (but was perfectly happy to have the human Nigerians sell the product in his 'patch' as he called it)

So he demands his 'payment' for allowing me to continue my operations unopposed. A bribe the humans call it.

'Got to keep an eye on you boy' he says 'don't want you getting up to anything _illegal_ now do I?'

One thousand _rand _and a dismissive growl see him off, until next time at least.

Staring into the candle flame, I resume my work. My mind connects back through to the past, the flame acting like a bridge through time:

It is around one year after Alexander was murdered and I am walking through the district with some MNU officials, who are engaged in 'surveying' the population to see how they are coping five years after we landed.

Non-humans scurried away or slammed doors when we approached and I found it difficult to look many of them in the eye; I knew many of them thought of me as a traitor anyway.

In reality I believe this exercise was not about welfare checks at all but was actually a dry run for the planned forced evictions to the proposed District 10, which MNU (so it was discovered) wanted to happen TWENTY years before they actually attempted to move us out.

MNU wanted to take a census to work out the logistics of any future moves, how many of us there was to move, where to put us...

It was around this trip through the slum that I began to notice a strange thing happening to my species; we appeared to get intoxicated by and finally addicted to cat food!

Many prawns staggered about holding cans of cheap cat food, while others lay in catatonic heaps having vomited cat nip after several 'hits'

This drunkenness was over and above the state of euphoria induced with brake fluid and was often accompanied by aggression.

The stuff was on sale everywhere at first, from street vendors, between friends and even the rubbish heaps were scoured for scraps…

The humans meanwhile complained that their poor cats were suffering as my people cleared the stores of the supplies!

As things turned against us, inevitably the Nigerians monopolised the trade in cat food and MNU soon outlawed consumption of the stuff as if it was a narcotic, which I suppose to us it was. All purchases of cat food had to be made through the Nigerians, often at rip off prices. As our world closed in around us and only encompassed the limits of District 9, they would have the monopoly on trade.

So a black market operation began. Under the noses of corrupt MNU officials, tons of cat food came in with the Nigerian meat deliveries.

(In case you are wondering, I did try cat food once and it repulsed me! It was too salty and gooey for my tastes!)

One day, it was in AD 1987 I think, I ventured out for fresh meat. I had been so traumatised by the killing of Alex that I wouldn't have cared if we had been allowed out to buy supplies.

As it was I did not know what to expect, but a long queue was the first thing I saw.

The whole place had an air of menace about it, and the Nigerian meat sellers radiated hostility and contempt towards us. Equally many of the prawns regarded me with suspicion and some growled at me to fuck off.

But I stood my ground.

It was about this time that the first gangs had been formed, with complete strangers banding together as they had lost their families. Rumour had it that a small number of convicts had been aboard the ship when we came here and that most survived the sickness. That didn't bode well for us.

Before I knew it my turn had come at the front of the queue.

'Whadya want prawn man?' asked one of the Nigerians, waving a gun. I surveyed the racks of fly blown and decaying slabs of meat, bones and intestines.

'Come on prawn, I don't have all fucking day!' he said impatiently.

I felt pushing and shoving behind me too, so this could get nasty. Glancing behind, a number of prawns gestured for me to hurry up.

But what disturbed me most was the group of non-humans who were stood nearby, next to a shack with a red gang symbol daubed upon it. For some reason they had been regarding me intently and I could see barely concealed weapons on them.

'Don't hurry me...I need time' I said, half pleading.

'How about a tasty bit of liver, half price to all you prawns or what about fresh cows head, umm yummy!'

He held the horrible smelling produce up to my face. Eager to leave, I grabbed a load of fatty mince and some of the intestine, handing him a scrunched up bunch of money.

But then a final heavy shove sent me sprawling forward into the table and at once I pushed back. The evil looking gang then moved forward as if on a signal, weapons in hand and firing at me.

I felt the air around my antenna become super heated and I ducked for cover. A non-human next to me simply came apart, showering me in blood. Then another alien fell at the same time as a Nigerian. The gang must have been so wasted and out of their heads on cat food that they couldn't shoot straight. Eventually I grabbed a freshly cut cow's leg from the stall and threw it at one of them, knocking the orange and white coloured assault rifle out of his hands. In a flash I charged into him and grabbed the rifle. Knocking him down to the floor, I stood on his chest while be hit out and struggled. Spinning round I blasted two of the gang to pieces. One arc gun round sizzled past my leg, nicking a piece of flesh from my knee. Screaming I fired off another blast, killing the arc gun owner. Then another black-green coloured alien thought better of it and ran off. The original assault rifle owner got up from the floor and begged me not to kill him, saying he was in season for an egg...

I threw the gun at him and ran back to my shack before MNU turned up and clubbed all of our heads in. Somehow I didn't have much of an appetite after that.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

That episode had truly frightened me but little did I know it would be the first of many to come. Enquiries around the district yielded little in the way of solid information, except that the individuals described were part of a new gang being formed.

Even though there was a large non-human population in District 9, from time to time there would be instances of us pulling together and helping one another in times of difficulty. It was neighbour to neighbour at first and then block by block, but a sense of community spread out. If a youngling was sick or if you were being harassed by MNU we would pull together to help…

But often this went the other way too. Gangs had become more of a problem in the district, as I was all too aware of from the market fight.

They often worked in cohort with the Nigerians and began to set up the first gambling rings in the slum. On a nightly basis I would be kept awake by one particular den operating near to me. So it was inevitable that I would be invited for a game called 'poker' by the humans. After one game though I was told that I had bet everything and 'lost', meaning my money and food rations were taken. The smiling Nigerian and his non-human side kick said I was lucky not to have lost my new shack too!

So I never played with them ever again. Prostitutes then began to tour the district at all hours of the day and night, knocking on doors. My neighbour once went with a human girl, calling the experience 'unusual but not unpleasant'.

This was after he had found out the people who controlled the prostitutes, 'pimps' as they were called, waited outside the shack for the deed to be done then demanded their payment.

Now interspecies prostitution became the norm for some.

Meanwhile the associated social effects of cat food were bewildering us and it was making us very quick tempered!

Dependence soon followed, with Benjamin, whom we met earlier, eventually taking his own life after being denied a fix from the Nigerians because of his lack of money.

He turned up at their compound one day, demanding to see their leader and threatened to cut the throat of the warlord Obesandjo with the rusty hunting knife he carried. The young Obesandjo appeared and told him to get lost but Benjamin demanded a one on one with him.

So the Nigerians used Ben as living target practice as they shot him to pieces, a passerby told me later. Ben knew he would go there to die, thus solving his problems.

It made me so sad to think of his decline into that state.

When I went to retrieve his body they would not give it to me. When I asked why they would not give me his body back, they said it had been used to make prawn soup and laughed in my face!

Another sad case of addiction I recall from that point in time is one of a non-human named Simon.

Despite her male name (MNU did not bother to differentiate or develop a clue about our gender structure), Simon was a female.

Intelligent far beyond other prawns, Simon had been gripped by the curse of cat food, developing an addiction.

Exiling her self from the district to live in the city, Simon found a home in the underground sewer system, building a nest there. She terrified the workers down in the sewer and the general population above ground, with regular appearances to steal food and clothing.

There was even a negative newspaper article published about her terrorising the humans, helping relations to deteriorate even further. I never did find out what happened to her though.

It probably didn't bear thinking about.

By now I was fairly content in my existence. I listened to the grievances of my people and reported back to MNU, all for them to do precisely nothing about it!

It was seemingly a pointless job but much more bearable than the factories or the underground mines.

Many non-humans complained of the lack of electricity or other basic amenities. For our bathing facilities I remember us simply being huddled together in a large group and then sprayed with a fire hose by laughing MNU personnel. The water was freezing and literally got under my skin (or shell plating) causing great discomfort.

Then we had an 'upgrade' when a dug out pit full of filthy water (and other unmentionables) was pressed into service as a communal bathing area.

Year on year it seemed as if MNU were happy just to let the district (and us with it) decay away. For the small sum of money I received as payment for my services, I still felt somehow hard done by. Then I remembered the lucrative trade in cat food and so began to sell it, small time at first and going round the district finding addicts and new customers too. It was amoral but these were hard times and I had to think of myself too! This was where I had the second encounter with the vengeful gang bangers. One night I had been sound asleep in my shack when a cacophony of automatic weapons fire erupted outside, not unusual around here though. But when the lines of bullets stitched the walls of my home, I knew I was in trouble. Then I heard the sizzle and whoosh of arc guns and grenade launchers.

Only _non-humans_ could operate that sort of weapon.

So I dived out of my bed on to the floor as the first of the petrol bombs landed inside the shack. I grabbed an assault rifle from a hidden hole under the building and cautiously looked out of the window, which was a bad idea.

A shot of tesla fire ripped apart my wall, leaving a large hole with a glowing orange ring around it. I answered with a shot of my own and heard a growl of pain in the dark. A number of non-humans stood in a circle, grasping lit petrol bombs. The flames lit up the congregation and I made out the 'egg' alien from the market battle and the green and black prawn which had ran off as well. This time there had to be at least twenty of them, all wearing white arm bands made from torn sheets and with red letters in our language written on them: The Fearless Life Takers they called themselves. I barely had time to chortle when they unleashed a volley of petrol bombs, a couple of Earth animals known as Pit bull dogs and even a specimen of ship vermin known as a 'space rat' to the humans.

These creatures resembled Earth 'lobsters' but had a lethal barbed tail and could be lightning fast. It ran at me, dancing in ever decreasing circles, tail jabbing out at me. But it was no match for an assault rifle and I vaporised it immediately. One of the dogs sunk his teeth into my lower leg, but I kicked it off. With flames completely consuming my shack, I knew I had to leave. Shots echoed all around me, zinging the air all around me...

In no time at all however I found another shack and swore to avenge these attacks. But first I wanted to know why they were targeting me.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Not all of us who took cat food became hooked though; I had some pretty nasty encounters with those non-humans who had felt conned and said they would rather eat human excrement! But it nonetheless gave me a better income for selling it so I didn't care.

In the meantime the government had been satisfied that they had gotten everything off the mother ship that could be useful to them. So in AD 1989 the military and MNU finally sealed it up for good. This one deed seemed to finalise our lives here on Earth as homeless refugees. Now the ship was a rusting hulk to us, hanging uselessly in the sky, a reminder of another happier time and place to us.

As a result of this act many of us began to question our existence here and thoughts immediately turned to the mother ship itself. None of us really knew why we had ended up here, though the most common theory related to the vessel running out of fuel. And since there did not appear to be any refuelling stations on this planet (unlike other colonies), we were effectively stranded.

Others said that the sickness had killed off the upper echelons of our society, leaving us lost and directionless.

But little did MNU realise that some of us had brought down with us different relics, all useful to our salvation, and still possessed many of them to this day!

Weapons, scientific equipment, manuals, could all be found hidden and dispersed around the district. These artefacts would be the last remnants of our culture so had to be guarded jealously. Any attempt by MNU or humans to find and capture our technology would most likely be met with lethal force!

The ongoing diet of bad press concerning didn't auger well for ongoing alien-human relations.

I have many clippings and articles from newspapers of that time, detailing the bad press and worldwide condemnation which MNU and the South African government attracted as a result of leaked reports about our mistreatment.

But it all came to naught as other world events stole the headlines and interest wavered.

It seemed now that because of this MNU would for a short while go on a charm offensive, allowing humanitarian organisations and advocates groups access to the district, along with television crews and newspaper reporters.

I was astonished by this turnaround until I realised it was all a cynically manipulated damage-control exercise. All of the interviewees were chosen to document the worst attributes of my kind: cat food addiction, mindless violence, prostitution, illegal weapons possession…the list went on.

See, they said, look at them yourselves and discover what we have to deal with. They aren't cute and cuddly, they are hideous.

And it worked!

Public opinion once again turned against us and we returned to being despised.

Only the humanitarian organisations stayed on, albeit in ever decreasing numbers.

I was oblivious to all of this as I had embarked on a quest to discover why the Fearless Life Takers had embarked on their mission to destroy me. Two reasons emerged; that I was seen as a traitor in working for MNU and that I had killed a few of their members.

'But they had been trying to kill me!' I protested to my informant, Samuel, later to be one of 'the disappeared'

'All of us know that, I was in the market when they attacked you!' he chirped 'But their leader, one Elliot Jones better known as Talek has decreed that you will be eliminated'

'Who was this Talek' I asked quizzically, having never heard the name before.

'Ah yes, Talek-the-Morbid, great warrior of the Rock Lander tribe!'

I was known as a Grass Lander, a sub-species who dwelled in the lush green plains of the home world. In contrast, a Rock Lander lived in the arid northern deserts, commanding a fierce reputation for killing other tribes and enslaving non-natives.

Not unlike MNU come to think of it!

Often ignorant humans assumed we were all part of one big tribe.

So this Talek wanted me out of the way did he? I would show him!

I had two options open to me; I could either use my MNU background to get them taken away or I could do the job myself.

I decided on the latter plan, to take the battle to them.

The Fearless Life Takers occupied a compound which was similar to the Nigerians in the far west of the district. According to Samuel, it was unpatrolled by MNU which should have made our lives a bit easier.

He still said it was an extremely dangerous area and advised me against venturing out there. It was ok, I told him, because I would take Roland McConnell with me. It was not long before this time that I had my first dealings with the non-human named Roland McConnell, who I had rescued from one Nigerian witch doctor intent on eating him.

The humans foolishly believe that if they digest parts of our anatomy, it will give them some of our abilities in relation to operating our weapons!

Consequently the trade in 'prawn' body parts was at an all time high when I smashed the operation and killed the witch doctor, a distant relative of Obesandjo.

For me nothing reflected more how depraved we had become and how low we had sunk than members of my species killing and cutting up their own neighbours. Worse still was the fact that many of these harvested organs were sold to the Nigerians in exchange for cat food or cash.

This really was slum life getting out of control!

McConnell I had actually remembered from before when I held teaching sessions on the host languages and culture, in a tent provided by the World Health Organisation. He had been a reluctant pupil, though very diligent, but had stopped attending after a short time. I understood that he had been a soldier back home and may have been a fugitive from our planet.

At this time he was employed in an MNU factory, making tanks and other heavy weaponry.

After years of ill treatment he began sabotaging the production line, bringing him to the attention of the fledgling resistance leader, Charles Avery.

Avery saw McConnell as a willing and able recruit, with his knowledge of MNU and his guile; he would help them defeat the infernal repressor from the inside!

For several days prior to our intended assault on Talek/Elliot Jones and his gang, we gathered as much weaponry and intelligence as possible. It seemed that around thirty members resided in the compound, which was always patrolled day and night. No matter I had no intention of being subtle about anything!

Rumour had it that all of the members of the Fearless Life Takers had stolen the cream of our weaponry from the mother ship and would be heavily armed.

Elliot Jones, as fierce as he was, always had two body guards with him too.

Setting out after sun down it took us several hours to traverse the canyons and rat runs of the district. Following the directions supplied by Samuel, we soon reached the territory of the Life Takers. Graffiti began to appear, warning us off this territory and promising grave consequences for those who disobeyed.

A prawn had written on a crude cardboard sign that the area was infested with specially bred space rats, but all I could see running around was the terrestrial black and furry variety.

One mural depicted the ship, festooned with gang symbols, flying away while another told MNU and humans to 'FUCK OFF AND DIE!'

This area had an overt feeling of menace, with dozens of empty or burnt out shacks blighting the landscape. Each building had graffiti recently sprayed on it stating 'OUR PROPERTY NOW' or 'THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MESS WITH US!'

Even at this hour I could sense nobody else around, not even any of the usual rubbish or other clutter pockmarked the area, which was unusual for the district.

Unnecessarily I told McConnell to be wary. I think we both sensed how dangerous the area was.

'This doesn't seem such a good idea now, William'

I must admit I wasn't going to disagree with him. Any moment now there could be an ambush of some kind. But only the faint sound of crickets could be made out, broken only by the distant clattering of patrolling helicopters.

But even these noises faded away as we got closer to the compound, with not even a breath of wind for company.

Then the compound came into sight. It looked like a metallic castle, standing at two storeys high and with several shacks built into one room. A tall fence, topped with barbed wire, ringed the premises. It appeared to be nothing other than a gang headquarters and made no attempt to disguise that fact.

'There is some guards stood by the fire' Roland pointed out.

A group of gang members, identifiable by their red and white arm insignia, stood around a flaming oil drum talking loudly.

The speech was guttural and littered with expletives; the language of drone workers.

I could make out five of them in the dancing firelight, but I suppose there could have been more.

As we got closer we heard a radio playing and more speech, this time more jovial in nature.

In the distance a dog barked and I heard what sounded like gunfire. Part of me began to feel afraid but then I remembered just how much of a threat they had been to me, attacking my home. Broken vehicles and other junk littered our surroundings now, together with pieces of non-human weapons in varying states of disrepair. The Fearless Life Takers had been so confident of being untouchable that they didn't even disguise their illegal activities.

Making sure my ion pulse rifle was prepared; I clicked for Roland to be ready. He nodded affirmation.

I had a simple plan whereby Roland would draw out the gang members with a barrage of fire and then I would pick them off with my own weapon, which would act like a sniper rifle.

The ion pulse rifle would fire quick and devastating bursts of energy that could obliterate a tank (as MNU would discover in years to come)

Despite this simplicity I knew that killing prawns wouldn't be as easy as picking off humans.

If the members of the gang were convicts or drones, they would be bound to fight harder and faster than your average non-human.

This thought chilled my blood no end so devastating firepower would be key here.

As my secondary weapon I carried a trusty assault rifle!

After some time spent watching the oil barrel group, they moved away and a second group appeared. There was momentary bravado with pushing and posturing aplenty.

These were all too human gestures, I said to Roland.

'Then let us destroy them!' he replied.

I moved to a better position and then signalled him to fire off a volley of grenades. The second group disappeared in flames while I targeted the first.

Lights came on and shouts erupted, followed by gang members pouring out of the shack. I made there to be some fifty of them, more than the initial estimate. They chattered excitedly amongst themselves and scanned their surroundings cautiously.

Another explosion of grenades and they returned fire. Squeezing the trigger on my weapon vaporised more of them.

Roland kept up a steady rate of fire and their ranks crumbled. I pushed forward, stepping over piles of goo which represented the fallen gang members.

There seemed to be no coordination in the counter attack and we cut through them in minutes. Many had fallen back into the shack itself and I shouted at Roland to follow me in.

Arc fire lit up the darkness in periodic flashes, revealing the location of the defenders. One, two, three...they fell.

But where was Elliot Jones?

I roared his name out but was only met by more fire. Roland ran in behind me, swinging his weapon to and fro.

All of a sudden I was knocked off my feet by a charging non-human, who picked up and threw McConnell to one side. Then he leered over me. Missing one eye and carrying a wicked looking blade, I assumed he was one of Jones' body guards.

I scrambled on the floor to reach my weapon as he pursued me with the blade, grabbing it and turning around in time to vaporise the assailant.

We systematically searched the shack until we came across a small injured non-human, cradling the body of another larger prawn.

I recognised him as the 'egg alien' from the market battle.

'Talek-the-Morbid' I asked him as I saw he also cradled an ion pulse rifle.

'Yes that is I or Elliot Jones as the humans love to call me. But who are...wait, you are the one from the meat seller fight'

'Yes that is correct, my name is William Peters' I replied crouching down low, weapon aimed at Jones.

'You have caused me a lot of trouble, burning me out of my dwelling and making attempts on my life! So I must ask you why before I kill you'

'Because you are a traitor against our kind, working FOR the humans...you are sick'

'But I do what I have to do to survive, like anybody here'

He laughed then, the curious rippling of our mouth pieces which resemble jollity.

'So now what'

I thought for awhile.

'No I just get rid of you'

With that I blasted Talek-the-Morbid into little tiny pieces.

The glow from the blazing super shack could be seen for miles around so we opted to return home lest we attract unwanted attention.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Some weeks after that I had been sitting outside my shack with Roland, enjoying a rare moment of tranquillity and watching over a group of younglings playing with an old bicycle, laughing and falling off. Roland had returned from another day in the rubbish heaps and had brought a curious collection of dampened books called comic strips. These veritable riots of colour and tiny speech bubbles fascinated him as they told 'fiction' stories, stories that were not actually true.

'Not true' I asked quizzically as he handed me one 'that is truly bizarre, would you want to hear a story that had been made up?_'_

He looked at his pamphlet sheepishly, thinking that actually it might actually be a silly human hobby after all.

'But it is entertainment, an escape from reality'

'Intended for human children…'

He had no answer to that.

I stared at my comic, an adaptation of _Invaders from Mars!_

I laughed aloud at this, the aliens were depicted as blood thirsty creatures whose only goal was to eliminate humanity and take over the planet. They had clunky machinery and laughable mobility, but with weapons much like our own…

I looked at the date of this publication; AD 1967.

My curiosity piqued but was then interrupted by a shout.

A non-human pointed to the distance and urged the younglings to flee. Another member of the army of cat food addicts no doubt.

'You there, clear off this is our sector!' I yelled.

But then I saw what he was pointing at: a lone figure in black MNU attire and carrying a gun.

I bristled, ready for the attack. But the man kept coming, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He was black and wore a helmet along with a pencil moustache.

He seemed timid, afraid almost.

'What are you doing here human, lost are you?'

'Quiet Roland, this man is a threat!'

'No, No I am not a threat…please!'

He lay down his gun and walked towards us.

'My name is Fundiswa Mhlanga and I have come here to thank you'

Puzzled I urged him to go on.

'I had been having some bother with those Fearless Life Takers, as they had kept us away from their sector with personal threats of death. Rumour had it you and some friends had taken them down'

'Well it wasn't to help MNU you know!' I said.

'I am grateful to you, personally, as they had been targeting my home and my family, so thank you again'

And with that he was gone, to rejoin his patrol.

I am brought out of my reverie by a light tap at my door. I swear I will have that useless Nigerian guard killed for all these interruptions!

A slightly built non-human stands at my door, clicking a nervous greeting and saying that he brings 'custom'

I tell him that I am closed but he already has a claw-full of money ready. He asks for two cans of cat food and I immediately scoff at him, a very human thing to do! You see I had recognised him as the son of Ritiko (aka David Forbes), a so-called great and good resistance leader, alleged to be on a par with Christopher Johnson, so his followers thought.

What was he doing as a junkie, turning up at my front door and practically begging to be given more narcotic?

I give him what he requires and tell him not to bother coming back, or else he would have the wrath of some Nigerians incurred upon him.

I will come back to him later on in this account.

In AD 1991, the year the first active resistance began; Forbes approached me with a proposal to join his local group. He said I was ideally placed as I was working for the enemy, MNU.

Despite my protestations about Earth and living here, I refused point blank as I felt comfortable in my existence in selling cat food and other 'essentials' to the others.

I felt useful, needed by the community, feared by the Nigerians and also commanding respect from my role with MNU.

I had the best of both worlds so why should I give up the status quo? It came down to survival now and that is what I was going to do, resistance or no resistance.

I assumed that if you kept your head down and left the humans well alone, you would be fine. I didn't need individuals like Forbes drawing attention to me and bringing me down. From then on, I knew this stance had fostered resentment from the resistance and they branded me a traitor from that day forth.

So be it, I knew what I was doing!

Ritiko (as Forbes had been known prior to coming here) had been a scientist on the mother ship, despatched from our home world on this latest mission to undertake research on a planet our leaders hoped to colonise.

I was his research assistant at that time and I looked up to him in many ways, he was older than me and acted like a father figure to me.

My own father had been a worker back home and had been left behind when our expedition departed.

Packed into the ship we had a complement of workers, equipment and other supplies for the new colony.

Living on board the vessel was initially pleasant, with all personnel excited about discovering a new world in which to inhabit.

Our species has a long and distinguished history of setting out and claiming uninhabited worlds as our own, often to mine but also to utilise as forward refuelling points for our fleet of ships.

But barely a few cycles after setting out, the 'sickness' came, a horrible, unknown disease which struck many of us down with fever and scarlet coloured sores. It was much like what the humans called 'smallpox'.

It ravished the ship and killed many of us.

The condition was rumoured to have originated in those workers who had recently returned from a particular mining colony which our people had begun to abandon.

Ritiko, with whom I previously admired, had not foreseen such a thing happening.

In my young (and naïve) eyes this fact did not make him so great after all, thus my opinion of him changed.

On and on we drifted through space, pilotless after our leadership had been killed off because of the disease itself and subsequent power struggles. It was like we were sailing on a ship lost at sea in a storm; the drones simply had no direction and as a result were programmed to go into a sort of automatic 'hibernation'.

Now we spent our time in a semi-comatose state, too lethargic even to dispose of our dead.

Food and medicines ran out and many of the younglings plus those too infirm to fight on all died.

So when the lights went out and the power finally ceased, it was almost a relief not to have to gaze at the suffering and dying going on around us…

This environment had been the stuff of my nightmares, where I have caught the disease and am tossed, while still alive, into one of the giant incinerators on board the vessel. Another variation has me blasted out of the ship into the cold depths of space, along with the bodies of those who had not made it…

In my darkest hours though, I have wished for death to take me away from this place, so much does it remind me of those squalid and filthy conditions aboard the ship.

_Why had I survived? _I found myself asking on many occasions.

Humans had a very apt name for it: survivor's guilt.

But then I often envied my brothers who had died and had a lucky escape, if only they could see now what we have to put up with on Earth, the way we are treated, they would weep.

I thought my depressed phase would never pass but in the year AD 1996, this changed for me somewhat. Still working for MNU as a 'go between' as well as translator, I would help patrols to speak to suspects or facilitate searches or arrests. It made me intensely unpopular as I was viewed as a traitor, but it also avoided a lot of misunderstandings between us all and possibly stopped a few situations from getting nasty!

One day I was asked to help a patrol approach a shack believed to contain an unregistered child.

All eggs and newborn younglings had to be 'registered' with MNU, probably, I reflected later, so that they could make sure our population wasn't spiralling out of hand. Seeing this as another example of state control, many non-humans refused to partake in this exercise in oppression.

Announcing my presence and the others, a nervy looking prawn by the name of Henry (actually a female, like Simon years before) opened the door.

The patrol had simply wanted to kick down the door, but I insisted on respect and took the lead.

'Why should we give them fucking respect?' I remember one of them muttering.

I recall now that Henry was gorgeous, a mottled crimson and white colour with green eyes, a real exotic looking beauty! I asked quietly if her children were legally registered.

No she replied eventually, her newest youngling was not registered. MNU had been planning to take it away but I insisted that if Henry registers the child there and then, she could keep it.

More complaining, snorting and swearing but the humans relented; I had spoiled their opportunity for a fight and to rip apart another non-human family. They wanted any excuse to beat down another hapless prawn but sure didn't like me afterwards!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

In time Henry and I became mates, siring an egg between us. But our youngling, Harry, had gotten lost one day and had been kidnapped for ransom by the Nigerians. We gave them all we had, money and some of our weapons, but they killed and ate him anyway.

This event brought me into contact with Obesandjo, the Nigerian gang leader, as I delivered the different pieces of Harry's killer to his compound.

Henry and I attempted to develop another egg, but it was no good, we couldn't conceive as her fertility phase had passed with Harry.

She died, I know, of a broken heart caused by our youngling's death, all added to the years of torment she had endured on this world. Another face gone, another light snuffed out of my life…

Now I felt as though every time I found happiness or contentment, fate would play a cruel hand and I would lose it all. Tiring of their abuses, I left MNU employment some months later.

Besides, it was the Nigerians who would be the target of my wrath. Not only had they killed Harry, but they had indirectly been responsible for the death of Henry and countless other prawns.

The loss of Harry, more than any other event, was proof to me the humans could be capable of limitless evil, making me hate them forever.

So I decided from then on that the best way to hurt them, apart from simply wiping them out, was in their pockets! I would undercut them at their own game, organised crime!

Since they made such a good living out of making my species miserable, I would strike hard at them and teach them we weren't going to be pushed around anymore!

Obesandjo the crime lord had been confined to a wheel chair as a result of accidentally shooting himself in the legs. He was an arrogant, cunning and ruthless man who would not hesitate to order the death of anyone, man or alien, who crossed him. And many had in fact perished because of him, including my child.

He had set up shop in the district soon after we got here, hoping to capitulate on the gullible and stupid nature of some non-humans. He was altogether the vilest example of a human being I had ever met (and I knew quite a lot of those believe me!)

When I marched into his compound, he paid me no heed at all. He probably saw prawns like me every day, begging him for more cat food or extra time to pay off their debts to him.

His lieutenants tried to block my way with their guns but realising that I carried a superior arc gun I nudged them out of the way; they had seen a weapon such as this in action! Obesandjo soon sat up and took notice of me.

In a lightning fast move I ran towards the gang boss, now visibly shaking.

'What do you want prawn?' he asked as I waved my arc gun nozzle inches from his face.

'You murdered my child and I want vengeance!'

His face drew a blank, had he forgotten such a heinous crime already?

I stepped up to him and smashed the butt of the gun in his face.

'So you wanna just kill me? What fucking prawn kid are you talking about anyway?' he said through broken teeth.

'I will just take from you what you took from me, your own livelihood!'

He laughed in that guttural and dismissive way that only he could.

'You just try it prawn, just try it!'

From that day forward I knew I was a marked man (or prawn!)

Breaking Obesandjo's empire up would not be easy, but I would succeed.

First off I had to take out his distribution networks and middlemen. For this I utilised a prawn called Solomon King to help me and his friend, 'Crazy Jo'.

The latter non-human was what you would call, in human terms, retarded. He was a real drone and acted as pure muscle for us.

Useless even with a simple assault rifle, Crazy Jo more than made up for it with his fists and strength. Legend had it that he was so fierce and unpredictable he had to be locked up whilst on the ship along with the other vermin!

Jo came from a caste of wild species which had been banished to the fringes of society.

But here on Earth he was just another one of us. He took to wearing trench coats and a tattered old shower cap, which made him stand out somewhat and served to accentuate his madness.

Over a succession of nights CJ, Solomon and I dealt with a number of Obesandjo's men, 'gaining' their customers as a result. Our species had no loyalty to anyone, so whoever could get them their next batch of cat food was the one they would 'befriend'.

King, who was a rare jet black prawn, served as evil incarnate!

Years later he would go on to form his own gang rivalling my own, but for now we would be allies.

One by one we took down the business interests of Obesandjo, shutting down stalls and banishing the Nigerians. Prostitution, fresh meat selling and cat food sales now belonged to us!

I also managed to recover many pieces of previous stolen technology.

Some of the areas of District 9 then became no-go areas, even for the Nigerians. They belonged to us now and would be vigorously defended.

MNU agents meanwhile stood idly by as we fought, oddly reluctant to intervene, the spineless humans that they were!

But our success came at a cost as Crazy Jo ended up being killed by a hidden landmine near the compound of Obesandjo during a raid, along with many others in tit-for-tat reprisal attacks.

We couldn't get to the man himself but we sure as hell got rid of his 'heavies' who had made life a misery for my species. At last we had wrested some control of our own affairs back. Obesandjo would be running scared from us now!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

By this time, some ten years after I had cornered Obesandjo's share of the market, my own enterprise was fully up and running.

I make no apologies for this nor would I seek to justify it. I do what I have to do because I have to survive in the cess pit conditions of where we live.

So it was most definitely a case of 'survival of the fittest' out here. Even Obesandjo's men must have known this as many defected over to work for me. It was good to hear that Obesandjo was beside himself and putting together a team of specialist 'prawn hunters' to try and eliminate me!

In the long hot summer of AD 2009, nearly three decades since we arrived here, tensions both within and outside the district had once again grown to boiling point. Fights between our own kind and with the humans grew more common place and vicious within the slum.

The same gang who had pursued me for years took every opportunity to take me down or disrupt my operations. Now they had begun to use younglings to get close to us in the streets, posing as orphans or to infiltrate our hide outs and lead in the attackers to get us. One of the more vengeful non-humans, the 'egg' alien I had met in the market, had sent assassins after me and had attempted to shop me to MNU on one occasion! This had inspired me to do the same to Forbes and his group.

Outside the district, a few non-humans had been foolhardy enough to break out and go on the rampage, overturning vehicles, robbing banks, looting stores and carjacking innocent motorists.

The press, always keen on a bit of prawn-bashing, leapt on these incidents, with one memorable headline reading: 'SPACE PERSONS CAUSE MAYHEM WITH ILLEGAL DIRECTED ENERGY WEAPONS. POLICE ARE ON FULL ALERT FOR MORE VIOLENCE.'

'Space persons' now that was a new euphemism on me for sure!

It was the least venomous piece of journalism I had read about us in a long time.

Still it seemed like now there would be a resurgence of problems between the species, after a decade of mere _simmering_ hatred.

Would we rip ourselves apart before the humans could?

More placard waving protests began on a daily basis, outside MNU headquarters and the reinforced gates of the district itself. MNU had been severely criticised for the way it had mismanaged the 'alien problem' and once again calls went out for us to be moved away from the city for good.

Many ordinary citizens, worried about the upsurge in problems, and the talking heads on television, agreed with this view point.

_The aliens should go now, away from the city and away from humans. We have put up with them for long enough._

Much of the new unrest was set against the background of more generalised reflection (and head scratching) by humans over the continued existence of the non-humans on Earth.

It was thirty years since we got here, they said, and there were still many unanswered questions about us.

How had the ship not fallen on the populace below?

Why had we come here in the first place?

Were others coming to invade?

Why hadn't other nations resolved to accommodate us?

The most vexing question for humans seemed to be 'how are we going to manage the growing non-human population on a long term basis?'


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

In a series of special programmes dedicated to the subject, media crews toured the streets of Johannesburg interviewing 'concerned residents' and then televised the reactions:

'Why the hell should we in South Africa pay to keep them here when they are not our responsibility alone!' said one man.

'Why do we have to live side by side with disgusting things like them? Can't anyone else take them?' asked a homeless man.

'We should bloody well sterilise them all, we don't want them to flourish after all do we? After that we can burn that goddamned shitty slum of theirs to ashes!' chimed in a pretty fashion boutique owner.

'I say round them up and put them on a big ship, sending them to...I don't know, Australia perhaps?' a bus driver offered.

'No, just sink the ship in the middle of the ocean, see if these prawns really live up to their name!' his friend added.

'How the hell are you supposed to integrate such disgusting looking creatures into our society? They tried to send one of them to work with me but I said I would rather resign than be seen with one!' a street sweeper remarked.

'They have been nothing but trouble since I joined up, shoot-on-sight is the right way to go now!' a policeman explained.

'We say send them home, home, home and that they are trouble...but this is home for them now! Give them a break!' offered another homeless man.

'One of them came to my house and snatched my pet dog, Bertie and then ate him whole in my back yard! I will never forget his yelps...could they not just design a virus to wipe those savages out?' a little old lady complained.

'Even though I banned them all from my store, they still come in and smash the place up, grabbing all my choicest cuts of meat and running away!' said a butcher, brandishing his meat cleaver to the camera in a menacing way.

'Man they are fucking disgusting! They build 'nests' where children play and guard them jealously. If we don't get rid of them soon they are going to hurt and maybe even kill another kid...' cried a young lawyer.

'I wonder if we can't just ask them nicely to leave, you know maybe inquire what is it they need to get that big metal monstrosity moving again' a city councillor complained this time.

'I remember being able to look out of window and enjoy the view of the city, without that big bloody ship spoiling the view and blocking out the sunny sky...Oh when will they leave here and go home?' wailed a mother of two.

Believe me I silently raged to her, getting angrier by the minute, we would LOVE to just fly away and leave this shit hole behind! But what the humans don't get is that we CAN'T leave as our vessel is _disabled_. I wanted to scream at the television set in frustration and throw it out.

_We can't leave even if we want to!_

So on and on it went, a poisonous outpouring of anger, hatred and resentment. Not one good comment came of it and I KNOW this wasn't because of clever editing like they did before, it was the real, raw and literal feelings of every human around. Only ONE voice of support, from a poor man, came out of all of the opinions.

Then the pundits came on.

A religious figure, a writer, a sociologist and the pearly toothed presenter all sat ready to debate.

The broadcast came from the studios of the popular JHB Network in Johannesburg.

I then selected a piece of meat and proceeded to watch.

'So the question being asked by many of our viewers now is simply, what next?'

I am sure the producers of the show would be surprised that one of their viewers was a non-human!

'The recent upheavals experienced during the attempted forced evictions of these beings out of the city and the scandalous revelations of their mistreatment by MNU, indicate that we have been approaching the so-called 'alien question' all wrong' answered the sociologist.

'Sympathy for the non-humans, such as it is, has increased somewhat since their vessel departed' he went on.

I was bemused, a sympathetic human? Surely not!

'I agree with that Gert is saying in principle' the writer suggested.

'But aren't we simply trying to relate to these beings on our terms...we demonise them and call them savages because they don't conform to any humanistic 'code' of ethics. So like monsters we are afraid of them and banish them away from us, hidden in their own prison, growing more resentful day by day. The truth is we haven't had anything like this before and we simply don't know how to treat them'

The presenter just pouted, I ate my pork.

The writer spoke next:

'I have written many fantastic stories of alien beings visiting Earth, who are welcomed, embraced and even celebrated! Yet after three decades our own REAL extraterrestrial population are shunned and marginalised! If we took the time to understand them, to let them teach us and for us to teach them, then this latter day apartheid may continue no longer'

I was beginning to be surprised now.

'Father O'Connor, what are your views on the ethical dimension in relation to our intergalactic visitors?'

The elderly priest thought for a moment, before speaking.

'When their ship came, my faithful worshippers thought a true miracle had occurred, something of Biblical proportions'

I tensed myself as only I could, the secondary 'arms' in my torso momentarily ceasing movement.

'But as time went on and we discovered that the non-humans were not actually the gift we thought they were, even my flock were disappointed'

So that's it then, we are a 'disappointment' to humans as well as savage and disgusting...

What did they expect from us? What do they want with us?

My people have the means to assist mankind in many different ways, but no longer the goodwill to help. Too many years of maltreatment have seen to that. Never before have we had to live like this, as homeless refugees with no hope of returning back to our planet. This is just as much a difficult situation for us than it is for the humans.

We are treated like animals and rubbish yet we have to be grateful for the things we get from them, the cat calls, jeers, punches and to top it all off, THEIR detritus to build our lives with.

_Curse you Christopher Johnson, if you don't return to take the rest of us from here..._

What then? What would I do? What could I do?

I jerked out of my reverie and focused my attention back on the television.

'But what did you expect, angels and halos?' the sociologist mocked the priest. Even I cackled at that remark.

'What we expected isn't what we have got...and as humans we are as much to blame for that situation! We are brutalising the non-humans and destroying any chance of cohesion we ever had!'

The audience cheered and clapped then.

I had heard enough talking at that point and switched my set off. The old broken-faced clock I had salvaged years ago said it was three in the morning, had I truly been up all night?

Settling down onto my dirty mattress with scratchy old blanket, I ventured to try and get some sleep.

I dreamt of home, of seven moons and of happier times...


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Next morning, golden sunlight streamed into the shack and warmed it up pleasantly.

Then I recall being disturbed by a frantic knocking at my door. It was gone midday and the district had thoroughly come to life.

Three non-humans, Richard, Bruno and Felix, all stood practically hopping from one leg to another, gasping for their next fix of cat food.

'Oh thank fuck you are in, we are hungry as hell' Felix had said by way of greeting.

The other two simply stood and scowled at me.

I knew what 'hungry' meant to them; if I didn't feed them their next fix they would steal it off me anyway. Richard and Bruno were well known in the district as total brutes, having been employed as one time enforcers for the Nigerians, so they knew how to use violence to get what they wanted!

I gave them their allocation and bid them good day.

Staring into the candle flame now, watching it dying and dipping my fingers in the warm wax, I struggle to recall how much time passed before a tear gas canister smashed through my window and began spewing thick white smoke in my shack, quickly filling it. When will the humans learn that tear gas has no effect on us?

Still it drew me outside, where I was quickly set upon and clubbed to the ground by black clad commandos.

'Is your name William Peters?' one asked without preamble.

Yes I said that is true.

'Then we are arresting you for the smuggling of contraband meat and possessing illegal alien weaponry'

Usually MNU simply arrested non-humans on any trumped charge but I must admit they had me on both counts there. As I was dragged to the transport vehicle, I wondered who had sold me out and then swore to avenge this moment when I did find out.

Then I wondered how this might end, would I live or would they cut me up for 'research purposes' too? I didn't fancy being burnt alive on a funeral pyre.

More than my own death though, I feared the prospect of others moving in and breaking up my crime syndicate and of giving some of it back to Obesandjo…

Pushed into a three-by-four feet mesh cage in the back of the Casper vehicle, I saw another prawn crouching on all fours in the next cell. He was coloured brown with black blotches and looked clearly intoxicated, swaying and staring vacantly ahead.

'There, play with your friend!' laughed the guard as he slammed the doors closed.

Outside the vehicle a small group of non-humans had gathered because of the commotion and heckled the MNU troops.

As we pulled away, several objects hit and bounced off the vehicle. At least I knew some of my kind still looked out for me!

Then I recall the bumpy ride through the district, watching other non-humans either ducking for cover or parting to let the big white MNU truck through the narrow shanties, then the opening of the reinforced entrance gates to the district and the surly faced guards…all unfolding like a bad dream.

All of which I could see through the narrow viewing slits.

Paradoxically even though I was caged and manacled in an MNU transport, I was actually 'free' and outside the stifling confines of the district itself. It sure had been awhile since I had last stepped into 'their' world.

I could see them, on the streets and on the highways, looking at the truck with revulsion as if they knew that we could see them.

_As if all of their worst nightmares had been safely contained within the truck…_

At that point I looked up at the mother ship, hovering above us like a silent guardian and for some odd reason I prayed to her for my eventual salvation.

After some more time spent travelling I noticed it had gotten darker around us and we had begun driving down a slope.

'Wake up!' I hissed to the dozing prawn.

'Quiet you fucking slime bag!' a guard yelled at me from the front seat.

We passed an entry barrier and descended further into the bowels of a building. I had no doubt it was MNU headquarters as I could see a number of similar vehicles had been parked up in the underground lot, along with lots of heavily armed troops like you would see back in the district.

Now this was actually my idea of hell!


	11. Chapter 11

The inner sanctum of MNU HQ felt like the concourse of a railway station, with different agents coming and going, slamming vehicle doors, starting up motor vehicles engines…and the fumes were absolutely noxious to me!

Reflecting back on this time it was apparent that MNU were gearing up for major operations against us, to occur a year on from that point. But AD 2010 was a long way down the line when you weren't sure if you would remain alive to see the end of this day. I had to worry about my impending incarceration.

Bundled out of the truck, I saw the other non-human (who they called Travis) practically carried to a thick door set back from the parking lot.

We followed on.

What struck me as apparent was the number of posters all around; for recruitment, tips on interacting with non-humans and a rogue's gallery consisting only of wanted non-humans.

And I suppose the humans never committed crimes then?!?

One barked word of 'ENTER' through an intercom and the door buzzed open. I was led to a holding area, with ten cells arranged in two rows of five. The overhead lighting was harsh and hurt my eyes. I then caught sight of Travis being thrown, bodily, into one cell as I was shoved in another. Then the door slammed behind me.

I was left alone now, not sure of what sort of hospitality the humans had in store for me.

The cell itself had no furniture and stank of acrid non-human waste products. Ugly black stains (which I presume was dried blood) decorated the walls, along with etchings on the tiles written in my language.

HELP ME….

SIMMONDS, SECTOR 478, DISTRICT 9-

REMEMBER ME!

ARE THEY COMING BACK?

THIS IS WORSE THAN THE SHIP, PURE TORMENT!

GET ME OUT OF THIS SHIT HOLE!

HUMANS WILL ALL DIE!

_Were these the cries of lost souls?_

As I was reading the first lines of a war song from our culture, the cell door swung open and a man stepped through, together with armed guards behind him.

'That won't be necessary' I said.

'Quite, you are a little different to our average prawn-on-the-street aren't you friend? You must understand it is just precautionary though'

His plastic name tag read: TIMOTHY VENTER.

I would come to know that name very well in the next year. Unlike many of the other bureaucrats who made up the MNU workforce, Tim Venter wasn't just another stuffed shirt, talking down to us and being driven by a hatred of us.

He seemed, well, different and actually interested in our culture.

'This is fascinating' he had said 'like a queen bee; there are very few Elites in your culture, one per thousand drones I believe'

He consulted some scribbled bits of paper.

'I commend you on your knowledge of our caste system…' I said quietly.

'Elites are natural leaders, respected and feared in equal measure, I can't believe we have an actual living breathing Elite here!'

That sounded like a subtle cue for the black-clad goons to pile in and drag me off to be experimented on. But they simply stood, looking uncomfortable. After all they weren't used to my species being treated this way.

Venter had a manila file in his hands.

'William Peters is your Earth name right?'

I nodded slowly.

'Then it seems that you are a very valuable piece of property!'

Property, like an object with no soul…

Back to being condescending then I guess.

'We have been most interested in you and your progress since you arrived on Earth, it says here you worked as a translator for us at one point'

I remained still throughout, watching Venter and his body language; humans are so easy to 'read' in this manner.

'You are classified as hyper intelligent by our Non-Human Psychological Studies Division' he went on.

A complement or did this now make me a risk? And what the hell was the Non-Human Psychological Studies Division? I had never heard of them before.

Then he got serious.

'Now look here Peters, you have violated two of the most serious sections of non-human laws! Food is expressly rationed and alien weaponry is strictly forbidden!'

Did this mean it was time for that long overdue beating?

'In light of this MNU agents have confiscated the offending articles and searched your dwelling. As you were in possession of a small number of illegal items and given your value to us at present, it has been decreed that we will let you go. But be warned any further transgressions and we will not be so generous!'


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

And that was simply the end of the matter.

A ride back to the district and I was back home. Though I didn't think that was truly the end of it, in more ways than one. I had no doubt MNU would keep tabs on me now.

In the meantime I had expected my shack to have been turned over, looted or even occupied by another prawn, as had been the case in the past when space for us was at a premium.

But it was exactly as it had been earlier that day. Later on I received news from McConnell that one of my human guards had been the one to 'rat' me out to MNU.

He had apparently been disgruntled by my treatment of him since he had left the employ of Obesandjo!

He was already in little pieces and had been scattered throughout the district.

He also brought me news of the resistance movement, of which he had now joined. Charles Avery had been worried at the possibility of an all out uprising against the humans, which would surely be crushed.

I laughed and told McConnell how well I had been treated, owing to my so called importance to MNU. Unsurprisingly and perhaps wisely trade had dropped in the sale of cat food, had the junkies known that MNU had picked me up? Certainly visits from the usual assortment of addicts had dwindled somewhat.

Some months later I recall that we were sat on the roof of my shack, gazing up at the stars, as we often did and trying this vile tasting brown liquid called 'beer', which had cost Roland one arc gun and an antiquated gas thrower to buy from the Nigerians.

McConnell had joined me and we discussed numerous topics. AD 2010 had dawned and this was to be a life changing year for us.

No matter what we had started talking about, the conversation always returned to the stars, not in the same sense as humans who had been fascinated by space exploration, but a longing for us to go home. The heavens were an infinitely fascinating place, even for us. We had the freedom to travel throughout space to wherever our leaders decreed us to go. New worlds and new galaxies would always be within our grasp. My species, by its very nature, was one dedicated to exploration and interstellar travel.

A long time ago the scientists on our home world realised our natural resources would not last forever and that new worlds would have to be reached...

A great blanket of stars, set against a pitch black night, gave us a breathtaking view and only served to fuel our desires.

But something ringed with anti collision beacons blocked out a patch of the sky, spoiling our show. It was the ship, watching over us.

Twenty eight Earth years we had lived here, I reflected soberly and for what?

We had altogether shamed our ancestors because we had nothing to show for our time here, except serving the humans like slaves.

We would now be a lost generation for sure.

Ever since my impromptu visit outside, I had wondered what things would be like for us now. Did the humans still hate us as much or had the ill feelings dissipated over time?

I wanted to know like never before.

Roland said I would be mad to run the gauntlet of security here, remember what happened to others who had tried to escape, shot on sight he said!

But I needed to see the city and told him it would be worth the risk.

Part of the fence in the far south-eastern corner of the slum was rumoured to have a space big enough for a prawn to crawl through, under the fence.

It was disguised, they said, with bits of rubbish and MNU hadn't found it yet.

It was to this place that I would now go.

With great difficulty I managed to squeeze myself under the fence and through the shallow fox hole, exiting the district without being spotted.

I say 'great' difficulty because my shell covering and body spikes kept snagging on the chain linked fence. Eventually I wriggled through without being spotted by roving MNU patrols or the strobe lights from the guard towers.

Tonight was a clear night and moonless, so it surprised me that the guards would be so slack!

Maybe they just didn't care anymore what happened to us, even if their jobs were at stake.

I moved on all fours through the waving long grass and shrub land encircling the district, quickly at first and then suddenly freezing in place. I remembered the fate that had befallen Crazy Jo, blown to pieces by a hidden landmine.

What if MNU had been taking security tips from the Nigerians and had also buried mines in the ground?

Nothing would surprise me now.

'Sniffing' the air with my antenna I detected no scent of any nearby explosive residue, so I proceeded with caution. Moments later I froze again as an MNU pick-up truck knifed through the darkness, headlights blazing and blue lights flashing.

Had I been discovered?

Evidently not as the vehicle charged past me and faded away into the night.

Now I truly was in an 'alien' and hostile world, _their _world and one which barely a few years before I could have traversed without incident.

But times had changed now.

I thought of Alexander and remembered how he had died. Sadness enveloped me and for a moment I considered turning back and forgetting about the whole thing.

But I was made of sterner stuff and I would continue regardless!

As a species we can move on all fours surprisingly fast, like a cheetah. I used this method of movement to maintain a low profile, no sense in being caught now.

Suburbs became city blocks in a flash. I ran over gardens, through alleyways and past the homeless human 'derelicts' that populated the streets at night.

We had more in common than they knew, as they drunkenly regarded me, like a fleeting vision.

I thought some of these homeless people would shout out and give me away, but they stared as I stopped and growled, perhaps not believing their own eyes. Many times I spotted patrolling police units and human gangs roaming the streets, so I took pains to avoid both, no mean feat when you are over eight feet tall and scaly!

The whole of the city was a concrete, steel and glass wonderland to me, a marvel of aesthetics!

It reminded me of our homeland and the great towering spires of the capital city, the name of which I have forgotten in time even though I had been sired close by to it.

Now I realised why Simon the non-human had escaped to live here, compared to the district it was paradise. I then wondered how she might be getting on in the world. Was she still alive or had a human mob dragged her out of the sewers and killed her too, like they had done with Alex?

Despite the late hour motor vehicles of every description thronged the streets, especially some automobiles called 'TAXIS'.

From somewhere near to me I began to hear a strange thumping, pulsing sound, which tickled my antenna.

Crouching behind a trash dumpster in an alley (and resisting the urge to automatically start foraging) I watched a line of humans enter a building named 'BOK'S DANCE EMPORIUM' which was covered in bright flashing lights.

They laughed, they hugged and kissed, they posed for flashing light boxes and then they fell over, still giggling.

Such strange behaviour, had they been eating cat food? No it must be what they called alcohol fuelling this behaviour, such a flavourless substance I think!

Some of the humans fought like we did, trading blows but then quickly moved on.

Was this their idea of fun and amusement, their version of entertainment?

Now my other senses were under attack too, not only by noise and bright lights but smells too.

Grilled meat (and a hint of raw meat) and…urgh…there is vomit and piss!

Humans excrete all of their body waste outside in their own streets! That is something we would never dream of doing!

Looking further down the road, another line of humans waited in line for something called 'kebabs' and 'burgers', sold from a stall.

They queued up like we always have to; waiting to see what treats awaited them. Except they did this voluntarily, not just to survive another day and I bet the food they ate was not fly blown or dusty, half rotten yet somehow strangely appealing to my people...


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Once upon a time I would have been able to come here and dine as an equal but to these people the non-humans were a distant nightmare, out of sight and out of mind.

Reality soon came back to me when I saw the 'NON-HUMANS FORBIDDEN FROM THIS AREA' on a large bill board standing above the street.

This was the only tangible reminder to the humans of our continuing existence.

Just then my acute sense of hearing picked up a hoarse shout of 'Hey is that a fucking alien?'

Moments later my excellent hearing picked up a distant police car radio announcing 'Non-human seen in vicinity of Bok's, all units please respond, over'

Easily avoiding any further detection, I made my way out of the city and into a large open area called Greensmith Park.

It had a panoramic view over the gleaming city and consisted of a park, boating lake and playgrounds for children to amuse themselves with. The usual signs warning us away from the area were omnipresent.

I sat slowly spinning round on the children's roundabout and wondered then how my little Harry might have enjoyed the swings and slides here, rolling around in the sand pit with human children. If only things had been different...

_Oh how I miss you and your mother, why did they have to take you away from here my son?_

The sky on this fine night was as usual dominated by the mother ship, set against a background of stars.

But now as I write I remembered that this view was not to be the same for much longer.

I had no idea how long I had been in the city, not that it mattered anyway.

MNU would hardly be likely to start a search for one missing prawn! On the contrary, they would positively relish it if one by one we all disappeared. Then all of the problems in this city would be solved for good...

Even at this hour Greensmith Park had such a captivating aura about it that I was enthralled. I could imagine the laughter of human children, the anxious looks of concerned parents watching their offspring, the bright sunshine and the sense of togetherness that somewhere like this meant. I felt a keen sense of loss as I sniffed the air and found the dormant pheromones of long departed humans, a skill I have only just managed to learn.

Humans emit a strange metallic odour and I have to filter out other backgrounds smells which tickle my sensitive antenna.

Examining the grass, REAL green healthy grass, I picked a few flowers and ran my hands through the dew.

Water droplets ran off my finger tips and fell on to my knees, cooling my skin.

Then I heard them.

Two voices, one male and one female, human and laughing. They were mates; I saw, an intimate coupling walking up the slightly inclined path from the direction of the city, towards me!

When I was younger I had always wondered what it would be like to procreate with a human female. Many of my species had engaged in prostitution with the sex slaves Obesandjo had supplied. But there my fascination ended as I found my own kind to be far more alluring.

Panicking, I hid in a nearby copse, hoping my silvery complexion would not betray me.

Then they paused and suckered their mouths together in the act humans called 'kissing'.

A curious human habit I have seen on the television, this willing exchange of bodily fluids and germs in the name of romance!

Then more voices approached all male and numbering no more than a dozen or so, it was hard to tell.

Yes five males, three ebony coloured and two white, approaching the couple.

Could they be a gang perhaps?

I definitely sensed danger in the air now.

The accosted the human mates, gesturing and swearing all the while. I could pick up the ozone scent of alcohol coming from their mouths. The male human pushed them away so one of them knocked him over, and then five silvery blades came out.

The female screamed and one of the gang went to jab the blade he held into her. I could watch no longer.

I should have just run away but something made me go back.

But they are humans, the collective prawn voices in my mind told me, the _enemy_. Let them kill each other and do us all a favour...

Growling I ran out on all fours and leapt on the knife man, twisting his neck. I grabbed two more and smashed their heads together.

Number four I threw to the ground and stomped on his chest whilst the last one got his knife into one of my back plates.

I swung him round by his arm and brought him over my head, swinging him like a rag doll.

Then I dug a hand into his chest and burrowed into his body, ripping out his heart and slamming him headfirst into the ground...

It was over in a flash, they were all dead.

The human female still screamed, thinking I would grab her next. I made a 'hush' gesture with my hand and shook my head vigorously, incessantly jabbering in my own tongue.

This seemed to placate her.

The human male looked shocked and bewildered, and somehow familiar....

I told them I meant them no harm and pulled the knife from my back.

The two of them still seemed astonished; had a 'dirty', 'disgusting' and 'depraved' prawn just killed five people AND saved their lives?

Please, I clicked, I do not wish to cause any more trouble tonight, and I must go now.

Then the revelation hit me.

I turned back to look at the male.

'Venter, Timothy Venter' I chirped. It was not a question.

'Oh my god it knows your name!' the female screamed anew.

Recognition dawned on Venter as well.

'Hey you are that prawn we arrested a few months ago! Peters, William Peters!'

That's me I thought, The-Not-So-Stupid-After-All-Prawn

'Well I will be damned' he went on.

Was this a good thing now? Would this one act serve to repair the broken relations between us now?

'You sure are something else Peters, I mean they wanted cut you up and do all that shit to you but I said no, we NEED prawns like you around'

'I don't know what to...'

'But the fact remains that you just slaughtered five people in cold blood and there are human laws against that! Plus you are in major violation of curfew regulations forbidding non-humans from leaving District 9'

'Spare me the bureaucracy and lectures Venter, I am not a savage and one missing non-human will hardly bring down the government!'

I knew I should have fucking let them die, what is two more dead humans to us after all?

His mate seemed to be a little more reasonable.

'But wait, Mr Peters here saved our lives and if he is as...sentient as you make out' she said, pleading.

'I know I know, man this is fucking unreal!'

Venter paused for awhile then said:

'I should call this in you know but you saved our asses from those scumbags tonight, so we owe you our lives Peters! So we go our own ways now and say no more about it ok? After all Johannesburg is a pretty violent city after all and we have millions of other prawns we could blame right?'


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Never before had I ran so fast back to the district, slipping in unnoticed the same way as I had left.

And so there it was, a week later, covered as ever by JHB Media:

'FIVE DEAD IN GREENSMITH PARK AS WILD PRAWN ATTACKS CITY GANG!'

Part of me smiled but would I see Tim Venter again? Would he unleash the full fury of MNU on top me, bring me in for murder?

If he did, there was no way I would be coming back from a trip to MNU headquarters in one piece.

As it went, MNU came down hard on all of us soon after.

It was now the summer of AD 2010, some months after my last encounter with Venter. It was at this time that MNU unleashed 'E-Day' or Eviction Day on District 9. This was the long planned mass movement of the non-human population out to District 10 and the bulldozing of the slum.

I was taken completely by surprise as the first I knew of anything amiss was when the big Casper trucks appeared and triple the usual number of helicopters buzzed over head.

Megaphone announcements and gunfire crackled through the air, hurting my sensitive hearing.

Many non-humans opted to fight back and a series of battles erupted.

I had been washing myself in one of the sludge pools which passed as a waterhole, latrine and outdoor bathing area when Bruno and a gaggle of other non-humans came pelting past me, hotly pursued by black clad MNU troops.

He leapt clear over the pool and ran between two shacks.

By this time I had interposed myself between the non-humans and the pursuing troops, chasing them as I was curious to know what was happening.

Bruno never ran away from a fight or any other trouble, so something serious must be going on.

The troops behind me fired, hitting the ground and the onrushing metal walls. I ran as hard as I could, but still the big prawn outpaced me.

'Bruno, wait!' I called.

But the lilac tinted prawn simply ran on, oblivious to my presence.

Where was he going?

A big Casper truck crunched to a halt and blocked my way out of an alley. I vaulted the obstacle without stopping and caught sight of Bruno bounding into the distance. At the same time, a big white helicopter flared into position, a sniper visible hanging out of the side door. One shot and a black flower of blood erupted from the back of Bruno's head, sending him sprawling. When the MNU troops caught up with him, they pumped another volley of bullets into him for good measure. It was clear that they would be in no mood for compromise.

Neither was I.

'Hey you, prawn, stop!'

The shouts came from all directions; who was I, what was I doing here...

I saw them roughly pick up the dead form of Bruno and carry him away, before they surrounded me.

With no time to waste I grabbed the white gun barrel of the lead soldier and swung him round like a human club, this way and then that way.

When they were all batted out of the way, I pitched my human 'weapon' through the side wall of a shack, which easily gave way and exposed a terrified prawn family hiding inside.

'It will be ok' I trilled to them.

With the coast clear and no more helicopters above me, I ran back to my shack.

Unsurprisingly I found Roland McConnell inside busily rummaging through piles of everything in an effort to find the weapons he knew I kept there.

But I was not angry, in the event of any trouble this was our prearranged plan, each of us would go to the others dwelling to seek help.

'They came half an hour ago' he said as he worked 'told me to sign an eviction notice and leave with them'

'Did you...

'Yes I killed some of them but they were threatening to burn me out with flamethrowers after I had barricaded myself in my own home!'

'What have I told you about killing humans? It attracts unnecessary attention and gives us a bad name...'

Roland chuckled derisively.

'And we don't have a bad name as it is William? Come off it and get real!'

I did concede that they were trying to kill him at the time.

Human deaths were inevitable when a day like this came, if they forced their will on to us it would only lead to a backlash from us.

'Were you followed?'

'No or else they would have smashed in the door by now!'

We then worked furiously, managing to unearth all of the weapons we could find, the ones which MNU had not confiscated...


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

On my large dining table there now lay several arc guns, assault rifles and tesla weapons, all waiting for the brave warriors sure to use them. Some human weaponry, mainly inferior bolt action rifles and specially adapted pistols, also lay waiting for action.

I had also found a few energy grenades hidden in a biscuit tin.

The armoury on board the mother ship had been well and truly stripped bare when we left, I remembered as I surveyed our massed firepower!

Then there was a rapping at the door and a female agent called out 'MNU AGENTS, OPEN THE DOOR PLEASE!'

McConnell immediately grabbed a human rifle.

'No!' I whispered harshly 'Wait for my signal'

He complied and then hid.

I opened the door to face several guns pointing at me.

'Would you step out here please?' the agent said nervously as I towered over her.

'Are you William...?'

'Peters, yes I am'

'We are here today to serve you an eviction notice on your property. You must go now and not give us any trouble, clear?'

She handed me a sheet of paper. On it was printed the superficial reasons for evicting us, all written in hard-to-understand legal speak.

_This movement of the non-humans is to be undertaken so that better management of their growing population can be established, and to promote the enhanced integration of the two species._

Reading this, I felt my anger rising.

'This is bullshit, you can't do this!'

I took a step towards her but in that instant I was clubbed to the floor from behind, hit in the back of the legs.

I crumpled down and a further blow struck me on the head, then I was tasered for good measure.

'You silly prawn!' the woman hissed 'You have just made things harder for yourself now. Hans kill him!' then she stalked away.

I lay on my back feigning injury. A Vektor assault rifle was levelled at my head.

'Please, I know Timothy Venter...I was the one who saved his life days ago!'

The agent seemed to freeze in her tracks and she spun on her heels as I slowly eased myself up to kneeling position.

I hoped Roland was listening.

'Tell me what happened then you little fucker' she said

'Five human thugs, three black and two white, attacked him and stabbed me...look here'

I showed them the stab wound. The news hadn't carried the details of the ethnic makeup of the gang, how else would I have known if I hadn't been there?

'You don't know Tim you mother fucking bottom feeder!' she yelled in my face.

'They had been out walking in Greensmith Park and they were attacked. I killed all the gang members...please just ask him, he will know me for sure!'

Her eyes narrowed, I had seen this behaviour before; she was considering me and what I had said.

'Hans get Tim over here from Sector 157. See if he knows what this shit head is talking about'

So he was in Sector 157 eh?

I didn't have time for Venter to verify what I had said.

'Greensmith Park is beautiful by night' I said.

With that McConnell blasted the side wall out of my shack and cut the agents to ribbons with his arc gun. They were atomised in seconds and I am glad he had discarded the ancient human weapon!

'Greensmith Park' had been the agreed code word for him to fire.

'Venter is not far from here; let's see if we can put a stop to this madness!' I said.

McConnell suggested we wait for Felix and a few others. I told him that MNU had killed Bruno and not to expect him to be here.

When we had our arms to hand, we raced through the district for Sector 157, some three blocks distant.

All around us lay the bodies of dead prawns, with some dead humans amongst them, along with half demolished shacks.

Large gatherings of non-humans were led at gunpoint to waiting buses and Caspers.

It seemed that some of us, probably drones, had not put up much of a fight! But we weren't drones so we knew better than that.

I sighted Venter straight away as he was using his clip board to stop one of his soldiers beating down a golden coloured prawn who only had one hand.

'It isn't fair' he was saying 'let's not make this harder that it has to be!'

Richard then picked up the soldier and twisted his head off, reminding me of the plastic bottles with their caps that could be found in the junk heaps.

Then he grabbed Venter, who was open mouthed with shock when I approached him.

'Timothy do not be alarmed, it is me, William Peters'

Shaken out of his initial surprise, he strung together a reply.

'Peters...my god...what is...'

His babbling irritated Felix, so I told him to see if he could help the gold coloured non-human nearby.

He stomped off.

I turned to Venter next.

'Timothy you and your organisation cannot just swoop in here and kick us out as you see fit! This is our home!'

He had regained his composure completely by now.

'We have orders and they come from the top of the government! Move the prawns out of the city at all costs'

'At all costs…' I echoed, regarding the headless guard and the continuing sounds of gunfire and explosions.

'Do you wish to provoke a war with us!' said Roland, waving his weapon around.

It wasn't a question, more of a promise.

Venter had no answer to this.

'Look here Venter, we are not leaving here so you can just crawl back to your hole and tell your government to go and fuck themselves!'

'I am only doing my job Peters…'

'I know you are a reasonable human being and there aren't many of those are there? I also know you disapprove of these bully boy tactics used against us, so from one sentient being to another, just go and leave us alone!'

'But my job…I can't be seen to be taking advice from…'

'Inferior aliens, is that what you mean? We are not inferior and you KNOW this. If you want to see your mate again you must go now'

Whether or not Venter heeded my advice I did not know because masses of reinforcements appeared and things got uglier still.

The gold coloured prawn, actually named Shaun, had meanwhile elected to join us.

He was quite adept at firing a pistol one handed, so this became his weapon of choice!

He told us a familiar tale of brutality and harassment by the Nigerians and how they had chopped his hand off in a bizarre 'voodoo' ceremony.

By now we also had Solomon King and some of his fighters amongst our ranks, engaging in pitched battles with MNU forces.

At first we used hit and run tactics, wearing down the troops before launching a full frontal assault.

Then out of nowhere an exo-suit appeared on the scene and started to assist us!

Despite my surprise I learned never to ask questions round here, so we simply got on with the task at hand!

In moments the suit had brought down a helicopter and turned a number of MNU armoured personnel carriers into flaming wrecks.

We hosed down any men who leapt from the wreckage. This was now war and it was brutal!

Things had quickly gone from forced evictions to open conflict; because that day saw three decades of long buried hatred and resentment boil over like a volcanic eruption.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

We swiftly moved from sector to sector clearing out enemy forces and helping any alien stragglers we came across. We found many non-human corpses scattered around, all showing signs of being executed on the spot.

Some already had missing limbs and on more than a few occasions we found bands of Nigerians roaming the slum, rounding up fallen aliens and carting the bodies off.

_Desecrating us even in death..._

Determined that they would not harvest a bounty from our dead, we obliterated them, aliens and all. Any untouched bodies were simply put in a hole, after a long forgotten incantation had been offered to our spiritual ancestors, and the corpses burned.

We hadn't the time or the memory recall to observe proper customs for our departed brothers as more MNU forces closed in fast.

Out first casualty had been Richard, killed by a lucky shot to the head. We burnt his body where it was and moved on, hoping no witch doctors would find him and salvage the ashes.

By now most areas of the district had been cleared of the enemy, bar the most northern sectors.

They had retreated for now but what is to say they wouldn't return tomorrow?

At day's end we took stock of our losses and found refuge in a large cluster of abandoned shacks.

Burning barricades and other crude barriers had been set up, staining the dusk sky with oily black smoke. This meant we weren't alone in our efforts to resist the humans, even though we had not seen many non-humans since the morning.

Now the district was like a ghost town.

Roland gloomily predicted that the MNU forces had already wiped all of us out in only a day.

Unlikely, we said, but Shaun added that if the Nigerians got involved...

He, like me, had a personal hatred of the warlord Obesandjo and his men. Not only had they taken his hand but had killed his brother and two young cousins, as they had mistakenly believed the latter owed them money for meat.

It turned out it was another pair of prawns who 'owed' the Nigerians and so the whole tragedy was something he liked to call a 'massive and fatal human error'.

Studying him in the firelight, Shaun reminded me of my lost friend Benjamin, both in his appearance and his temperament.

He had adapted well to life with a stump, using his good hand to scoop out cat food or forage in the trash piles.

An outcast by his family and many other non-humans owing to his disability, Shaun survived life in the district alone. Until now that is.

Maybe this day would bring something good after all.

Night fell and we gathered even closer around a fire, which cast a flickering glow amongst our scaly bodies.

Things crackled and popped in the still air, continuing battles perhaps?

I found some food in the shack, mainly dried out meat and the odd tin of cat food, passing it around the circle.

Roland suggested we all get as much rest as possible lest MNU return at dawn and resume the battle.

But many of us had taken possession of a nostalgic mood (through the cat food) and many stories of the old days and our home planet went round the fire.

Felix told us of his life as an ore miner on dozens of alien worlds and how he had gotten some of the scars on his broken and marked shell. Others he said came from the human who liked to beat him daily.

Despite his intellect, he preferred to associate with drones as they would do as they were bid without question.

Solomon King told us of his having to flee the home planet owing to his criminal activities catching up with him and his desertion from the military. He told us that even the Queen King, our great leader, personally had wanted him dead, such was his level of threat.

He said there were crime families worse than the Nigerians; who didn't trade anything but simply took what they wanted.

I told them all of my short life on the home world and journeys throughout the galaxy as the son of the Queen King's ambassador.

'Did you never have to work in the mines or on the vessels?' King chirped with the resentment in his voice obvious.

'Never' said I 'my life would be one of privilege until my father died and my mother and I returned home. Then I was put aboard the ship and we came here...'

I let my voice trail off. It seemed this time here was a dark episode in our history, something which should never have happened.

Shaun cursed the ship builders for designing a vessel that sought out the nearest life sustaining planet automatically when in distress, before adding:

'But my great grandfather had been one of the builders working on the vessel!'

'Do not blame your lineage for our predicament' trilled Roland 'it is the humans that are to blame for treating us this way'

I agreed.

'If only we could get a distress signal out to help us summon a battle armada, our troubles would be at an end...'

'I remember our armadas all too well, brothers, some of the finest vessels in the universe! Nobody would dare to seek conflict with us, despite our benevolent nature; though many tried. I was a soldier on one of those ships when a mining colony had been attacked by hostile natives' King remembered.

'We had been sent to quell an uprising in our own people, who had downed their tools in protest at our lack of help. Once we had made the colony safe, we put down the mutineers. It made me sad to massacre my own species but the Queen King had demanded it and so this was the catalyst for my desertion!'


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

We went on talking all through the night until dawn broke.

But no more raids came, at least not at first, so relative peace reigned over the district.

That is until the minions of Obesandjo arrived rampaging like never before and followed by large numbers of MNU troops.

Confusion took over me then, surely they weren't working together now?

Wild eyed and shouting, the Nigerians led the government mercenaries to us. I guessed that they would be hoping to get some revenge of their own, especially those who remembered me!

'I can't hold them for much longer!' McConnell yelled as I reloaded the human weapon I had picked up to use.

It was a fiddly contraption to 'reload', with a curvy metal cartridge sitting inside the weapon itself and with my claws it took even longer.

I raise the 'AK 47' and fire hard. It stutters and barks, felling a number of men.

So at least it works, despite the awkward design. It doesn't need our alien DNA to function either, unlike our own weaponry.

McConnell is injured and several of King's drones have perished.

The AK 47 begins to misfire from continuous use and Shaun suggests a retreat. I toss the stupid human contraption aside and pick up one of our own assault rifles, which hums to life in my hands.

Then we made a run for it.

I know we had to find other non-humans to help us establish an effective alien redoubt. We led them deeper into the district and turned to fire off volleys every so often.

Nigerians simply evaporated, spraying the MNU agents behind them with a mist of gore.

Blinded, the MNU personnel stumbled right into our follow up arc gun shots.

This went on for hours with wave after wave succumbing.

Our exo-suit, now piloted by King, did a sterling job of beating off the attackers.

But it too was exhausted; it simply was not designed for drawn out battles such as this.

'My power cells are low and this thing is damaged' the voice of King boomed from within the machine.

'We have to fight on!' chided Roland.

But now the numbers of troops had diminished, it seemed as if we had defeated the assault on us for now.

How many more would come though?

After a short time we stumbled across a fortified position occupied by a motley assortment of non-human warriors, led by none other than Christopher Johnson himself.

He seemed to be giving orders to a number of drones, with several Elites at his side also carrying weapons.

I ran over the edge of the dug out position and leapt into the foxhole, followed by my diminishing group.

At this point in time Johnson was days from perfecting his twenty year scheme to kick start the mother ship, though we didn't know it then and he was especially angry that MNU had come knocking at such a critical juncture for him!

He stood proudly as I greeted him, in torn yellow pants and taped up red vest, carrying an arc gun in one claw and a youngling in the other.

A youngling in battle, was he that angered that he would put his own son in the dangerous line of fire?

I did not recognise any of the other non-humans, though Shaun told me that some of them were from a new resistance group known as Pro-Forma. Laughably an elder non-human huddled in the trench, feebly trying to operate an assault rifle and being mocked by the child for his efforts. Many a time he attempted to swat the child away angrily, only to earn an admonishing look from Johnson.

'Peters, I am grateful to have your assistance today' Johnson opened.

'Not at all Christopher Johnson, in hard times such as these it comes down to the Elite caste to lead our people to victory!'

Johnson put his youngling down and clicked for him to snuggle deep into the fox hole, in case a human mortar shell hit the position.

Then he seemed to consider things for a moment.

'How many poleepkwa have you brought with you?'

I still had Shaun, Felix, Roland, Solomon and two others.

'Seven, including me'

Solomon King ambled over in the exo-suit and Johnson's eyes lit up.

'I thought I wouldn't ever see one of these again…that evens things up a bit'

He admired the suit as it were a fine young mate or a fascinating new Earth object from the trash heaps.

'Of course the Nigerians have either stolen them or some of our own kind had sold them in exchange for…' said Shaun.

'Yes cat food, that great scourge of our species' Johnson said, sadly.

'May I add that my power is low and I have taken something of a battering' King yelled through the on board broadcast system.

'No matter, there appears to be a lull in the fighting. We can use the time to repair the exo-suit and gather our resources' proposed Johnson.

Repaired in this context meant using cobbled together bits of iron sheeting and other improvised technology to make some kind of armour.

Despite all of this open rebellion there was no sign of David Forbes and his kind. Had their courage deserted them at this critical hour? That would not surprise me in the slightest.

I hoped that they had all been rounded up and killed and I am not ashamed to say it!

Soon afterwards Johnson launched into a rallying cry for us after patching up the exo-suit.

'They must be taught a lesson, that they cannot push us around like this anymore! Yesterday they came and murdered one of my only true friends in the world, then pointed a gun at my youngling! Should we let these deeds go unpunished?'

A resounding chorus of 'No!' went round the group.

'Today will be our revenge!' I remember shouting out.

Now I must state that I didn't know Johnson on a personal level either before or during our time on Earth, to me he was simply another Elite scattered throughout our population. What he said made complete sense to us but little did we know what ELSE he had planned.

I think if we had known at that point, most of us would have simply killed him and started up the command module ourselves. After his speech he told us he was harbouring the half-breed, Wikus who had begun to go through The Change.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

We collectively gasped, surely not The Change? That had not occurred for generations and this was the first time a human had been afflicted.

Usually the 'changed' members of our species were murdered and disposed of, like an unholy curse on our kind…

Now his own government wanted Wikus for their gruesome experiments. Some of us delighted in the irony of an MNU agent pursued by his employers owing to the fact that he was metamorphosing into one of us!

Johnson told us that he and the half-breed had raided the MNU laboratories and found many non-human comrades, in various stages of experimentation and many others dead.

He neglected to tell us that at the same time he had recovered the fuel canister to power the command module, having not explained the reason for The Change to Wikus in the first place, which was this same fluid.

Like a group of naïve younglings we took on board what he said without argument.

Many questions have been asked since he left as to why he hadn't told us of his plans. Did he think no one would notice the ship flying away?

It mattered not if his intentions were honourable, he had still deceived us! A small group led by the enigmatic Christopher Johnson had meanwhile been actively rounding up fuel sources and refining them to power up the command module to the mother ship. It was said he planned to escape the planet imminently. For years and years, Johnson and his followers had scoured the rubbish heaps looking for anything that may be useful to convert into fuel for the ship. This was done under the noses of MNU and every other non-human.

Of course we all now know what happened in those few days, the MNU agent transforming into one of us, the discovery of the command module UNDERNEATH Johnson's shack and his much publicised flight from the planet.

If he ever did return to Earth, many of my kinfolk would love to tear him apart for abandoning them at such a critical moment.

He was not the only 'sentient' and resourceful member of our species you know…

But that day had been revolutionary for us in many ways; unless Johnson came back we would now be well and truly stuck here, but at least we knew there would be hope now. Hope for salvation if he brought a rescue party back with him...

The final pitched battle of that day played out with MNU and the Nigerians trying to literally get a piece of Wikus. The half-breed had started up the command module and attempted to fly it away, only to be shot down by a missile battery.

After the ship had been remotely activated, Wikus escaped the clutches of the Nigerians in an exo-suit and helped fend off his enemies until Johnson could escape.

He reached the damaged command module and rejoined the mother ship.

Then Christopher Johnson and his son took off, leaving the echoes of the ship's engines reverberating off the shack walls and rubbish mounds. It truly was a momentous event, although tinged with sadness. Many of us knew we should have been on that vessel with Johnson.

So he had left us to an uncertain future.

With the ship gone, MNU came down even harder on us, searching beneath every single shack for any more escape vehicles. They ordered an amnesty for any alien technology to be handed in by the time seventy two hours had passed, or face the consequences. No one complied of course; my species were not in the mood for compromise or friendly relations with the humans. So the curfews got stricter and regulations became harshly enforced.

As a result many cursed the very name of Christopher Johnson; in his own selfish act he had made things even harder for us here!

Curiously though the bad press drawn to MNU when the experiments had been revealed made them shelve their plans to evict us to District 10.

This was about the only good thing to come out of the whole saga, aside from the global revelations about what MNU had been doing to us for years.

Looking back to that momentous day when the ship left, I too had a role to play. I must confess I acted like a common drone, completely savage and pack-like.

But it was self preservation and years of built up resentful anger which spurred me on.

The human mercenary, Venter, had the unfortunate half breed Wikus in his sights and was going to murder him for sure. A group of us gathered around, intent on warning him off and saving Wikus, with whom Johnson had instructed us to protect at all costs.

But the bald headed man started firing at us and, enraged, we swarmed all over him and tore him to shreds, thus saving Wikus.

For some time afterwards guilt had haunted me, an all too _human _emotion for an _alien_ don't you think?

I had killed one human to save another ghastly example of a human.

Wikus had been trying to evict us from our homes, as miserable as they were, to a concentration camp. He had presided over our eggs being barbecued and had lied, threatened and bribed many of us into leaving.

Even though Venter was a wicked man, we had still murdered him in cold blood. Doubtless I would be the only non-human tormented by these feelings, which was a burden in itself. It was curious to me just how many human behaviours I had unconsciously picked up during my time on Earth.

To be the only one deemed responsible (according to human laws) owing to my intelligence was an extra source of anxiety, on top of the guilt. In time, though, this feeling would subside.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Days and weeks went by and life began to return to normal. The evictions ceased and many of those who had been moved or fled now returned.

It seemed that having had a taste of what we are capable of when pissed, MNU had gotten scared.

In time I picked up my cat food selling trade and now that Obesandjo was dead, I took on his illegitimate businesses too.

Shaun, Roland and I paid a visit to the late warlord's compound and retrieved all of our weapons and other technology, declaring that anybody who wished to live should stay and work for us.

Only one man, who I remember was obsessed with snakes, tried to run and I cut him down with a well placed shot. So now I had a plethora of new recruits and a new base of operations to work from. In time this would become a central hub of business for many of us.

In the time since Johnson had left, MNU had scaled down the presence of personnel in the area.

Revelations of dastardly deeds from former employees, including botched experiments and genetics research, grabbed world attention to our plight and nearly finished MNU off!

I recalled the time, long ago now, that I had seen bodies being dumped and burned in mass graves. That MUST have been the start of it all; it made complete sense to me now.

Many of the Elites now hoped for the dawn of a new era in relations between us and the humans. I thought this to be an unrealistic dream.

While the humans might leave us alone for the time being, we had still grown more ghettoised within District 9.

The facilities did not improve, crime rates soared and the birth rate of new hatchlings grew out of control. Things had paradoxically grown worse for us now.

In light of the scandalous revelations about the treatment of non-human workers, MNU had been forced to scale down or cease the operation of many enterprises, further adding to the social problems in our community.

District 9 then became a no-go area for ANY humans.

These out of work drones with nothing to occupy their time would cause a great deal of problems in the future.

We would have to be more self sufficient than ever before!

That is before outside help began pouring into the district. The World Health Organisation, Amnesty International and a new group called the 'Alien Rights Movement' would pitch up camp in the slum, along with a number of religious groups.

It was a renaissance of twenty years ago to have the humans falling over themselves to assist us again.

No longer should we be seen as a vast zoo exhibit for the amusement of humans or as an embarrassment to the host government, so we hoped anyway.

Even I got swept up in this new wave of optimism!

But many others had been too proud or stubborn or bitter to accept human kindness.

What had they given us before and why had it taken a scandal of this magnitude for them to start treating us properly?

You couldn't just undo thirty years of mutual hatred in only a few months.

But then individuals such as Barry Fisher and Kathy Mortlake came along. They were both physicians from a faraway land called 'Canada' who had been sufficiently moved by our plight so as to come here and extend the hand of friendship and humanity to us.

With their beaten up old truck, they toured the district selling fresh, real meat and other foods, along with toys for the younglings and building materials for our shacks.

And there was not a tin of cat food in sight!

Medical checks for sickly non-humans and younglings came as standard, once some trust had been gained.

Both of them confessed their desire to learn more about the non-human anatomy in an effort to understand and treat our ailments.

They had an ambition to write a text on the subject and to assist in developing new medicines to treat us.

A new tent city had sprung up in the district where old shacks had been demolished and humanitarian groups had moved in.

On a larger scale the work of Dr Fisher and Dr Mortlake was replicated, with large queues forming for a food named 'soup', specially adapted clothing and other essentials.

Younglings were weighed and wounds were dressed.

It was a far cry from a few months before as none of this would have possible then.

So today I stand in the bright sunshine, gazing up at a ship-less sky and actually beginning to smile a bit.

Shaun is beside me chattering and I clutch my new 'dictionary'.

There is a sense of content all around me. Some non-humans wander the district openly carrying weapons, which is fine say the charities provided they are not used.

MNU forces are strangely absent, with only a token presence of troops here.

But beneath the surface, like a monster lurking under a still lake, discontent and anger lurked, waiting to pounce.

Many of us simply could not accept the new turn of events and suspected something else was in the offing.

I suppose old habits die hard and we still despised humans!

Not that my business suffered, the addicts still existed and there was trouble aplenty. At that time Solomon King decided to show his true colours and make a move on some of my empire.

So a battle was in the offing now!

If that wasn't enough MNU began to become more visible again AND Barnaby Forbes decided to make his break for freedom, bringing MNU crashing down on us once more.

Barnaby Forbes was quite simply a wastrel and an embarrassment to his father, David, much to my amusement of course!

He was one of the first Earth-born generations of my species and appeared to have inherited some of the worst attributes of human kind, including laziness, selfishness, gluttony and addiction. This set of characteristics, added to our own bad habits, made for wholly a lamentable specimen of non-human.

Unsurprisingly this made him the perpetrator of many troublesome deeds; he was forever in trouble with MNU and the Nigerians.

All too predictably he developed a taste for cat food and I often remember him swaggering into my compound, either demanding a human prostitute or some cat food, despite his inability to pay for both.

During his cat food stupors he would pick fights with other prawns and get his just desserts when they beat him! Both Shaun and Felix had vanquished the sill arse on more than once occasion!

Somehow he had known where my shack was and would turn up at all hours of the day or night to claim his fix. But curiously his bravado disappeared when my Nigerian bodyguard turned his dog on Forbes. He ran away scared every time!

Ultimately he singlehandedly managed to sabotage the whole of his father's upsurge in resistance activity when he broke free from the district and rampaged in an exo-suit.

This city wide adventure had been costly and had eventually ended with Forbes being shot dead live on television.

Before his death he had been boasting that his father was going to plant bombs in the city.

So when bombs actually did go off, I contacted MNU through Tim Venter and told them of the plot.

A search of the conspirator's shacks revealed their involvement in the scheme. But I didn't do it out of a sense of horror or sorrow for the humans; I did it purely because I wanted Forbes, his twisted son and all of the other minions out of my way!

They were all rounded up and carted off by MNU, possibly never to return.

And because of the actions of Forbes junior, human resentment had grown even more harshly and they would now begin to do something about it.


End file.
